It was very late to send Cheng Jia back to Chengfu, Mi Huang walked into the mansion, the gate, the courtyard, and the cloister were already hung with white lanterns with "sacrifice" written on them, and the lights all the way to the mourning hall that had been set up.

Ling Yin Zi stood in the middle of the mourning hall with overlapping lights, holding Cheng Dechen's coffin with one hand, and his always strong waist seemed to be rickety for a while, looking at the peaceful old partner walking in the coffin, he sighed, "The elders often say that the coffin is closed, and we are nothing more than fighting for the name of this body in this life, but you, you are in such a hurry, how can I say that you ......?"

Cheng Daxin, who was dressed in sackcloth and wore filial piety, supported his sick body as the eldest son, bowed down and knelt aside, and cried, "Please give words to my father!"

Pan Chong looked at Cheng Dechen's spirit card and sighed lightly, put a pillar of incense on him, and then said to him, "Life is only a few decades of spring and autumn, whether we go around and watch the flowers, whether it is three points into the play, or whether it is deliberately forced, since it is the conclusion of the coffin, it is the theory of later generations." Dechen, since you have gone, you will go, don't care about the gossip of later generations, and leave the rest to future generations to worry about!"

"With a big heart, write it for your father: take responsibility for the things before his death, and comment on what to do after his death. ”

"Yes, thank you for correcting my father's name. ”

Cheng Da was heartbroken, and felt that this sentence could not be more appropriate, and the craftsman who ordered the inscription to set up the monument immediately wrote it down.

"Now the old guy in the capital is left with us, everyone take care, we want to replace Cheng Lao to see my Chu country better......"

Li Lao said slowly, looking around at the only remaining gray-haired and gray-bearded old friends and the Chengfu of Nuoda.

It's a pity for Chengdechen, it's a pity for Cheng's family.

ZTE is in sight, but it is in a hurry.

If Ao Ziliang was speechless, he stood with his hands in the sky, as if recalling his stubborn and heroic appearance when he was alive.

Ye Lao Sima shook his head, and after burning incense and worshipping, he flew away, and this matter in the court had nothing to do with him.

Cheng Daxin returned the gift and sent him out.

"Thank you, all of you, for coming to see my father's last journey. The words fell, and the voice choked.

"Mother, why does my father keep crying? Doesn't grandpa always say that boys can only bleed on the battlefield, not cry and cry! Will grandpa wake up and hit his father's palm?" The son, who was only four or five years old, asked his wife Li, who was only four or five years old.

"Grandpa is very sick, and he won't be able to hit your father's palm in the future, so your father is very sad, you have to honor your father well when you grow up, you know?"

Li touched the top of his son's hair and said in a tactful voice.

Li Lao glanced at his grandson and beckoned to him, "Fei'er, come here, come and see your grandfather." ”

Cheng Fei nodded when he heard this, and then Li Lao picked up his grandson, looked at Cheng Dechen inside and said to him, "People will be like this one day, and one day grandpa will lie inside, so Fei'er remembers to come to see grandpa and grandpa from time to time, otherwise grandpa and grandpa will definitely miss you very much." ”

"Well, Grandpa, I'll go see you. ”

Cheng Fei smiled and nodded.

"Good, go kowtow to grandpa three times!"

"Hmm!"

Cheng Fei obediently kneeled on the futon and kowtowed three times upright, his small forehead was flushed, and then he said to his grandfather who was asleep in the coffin solemnly, "Grandpa, today Fei'er will already memorize the "Book of Songs" you taught, and he will also write his own name, three horizontal, two vertical and three horizontal." ”

"Can you memorize a poem in the Book of Poetry @ Ge Feng?" Pan Chongkao taught.

"I'll carry it!"

Cheng Fei nodded.

"Then you can recite it to your grandfather. Pan Chong pointed to the old man lying inside.

"Grandpa, I'll recite "Ge Feng" to you, please correct it!" Cheng Fei's small body knelt straight, and the crisp child's voice read.

"Ge Sheng Mengchu, vines in the wild.

Yu Mei died here. Who is alone with it!

Ge Sheng is covered with thorns, and the vines are in the domain.

Yu Mei died here. Who is alone with the solitary rest!

The corner pillow is sloppy, and the brocade is rotten.

Yu Mei died here. Who with Dudan!

Summer days, winter nights.

After 100 years old, return to its home!

Winter nights, summer days.

When you are 100 years old, you will return to your room!"

The immature children's voices echoed quietly in the white mourning hall, some laughed, some cried, some nodded frequently, and some shook their heads helplessly......

Cheng Jia, who had been standing outside the door with red eyes, also followed his nephew and read sentence by sentence, "Ge Sheng Mengchu, vines in the wild...... The corner pillow is bad, and the brocade is rotten...... When you are 100 years old, you will return to your room!"

It seems to remember that when I was very young, my father always liked to stand beside them with a ring ruler, with a solemn look, and if he read it wrong, he pressed him on his leg and whipped it twice, and when he read it right, he snorted lightly twice, and the corners of his mouth were slightly curved. Although he was beaten very rarely, sometimes he didn't want his eldest brother to be too lonely and he was too different, and occasionally he would deliberately miss two or three times.

Pan Chong bent down and touched his head, and said kindly, "Okay, your grandfather taught him well, and you read it well." How old are you this year? Will my grandfather teach you to read in the future?"

Cheng Fei looked up at Pan Chong, and then at Cheng Dechen lying in the coffin, not knowing whether to agree or not.

Looking at his nephew's hesitant eyes, Cheng Jia stepped forward and took his little hand and said, "This is the second uncle's teacher, don't you often say that the second uncle's knowledge is the best, it is all taught by the Taishi." Fei'er, come, kowtow to the Taishi three times, saying that Fei'er will study hard with the teacher. ”

"Yes, Second Uncle!"

Although Cheng Fei is small, as the eldest grandson of the Cheng family, he has already learned the etiquette, his thin back bent, he respectfully dressed first, and then knelt down to bow to the students, and kowtowed three times to Pan Chong, "Fei'er to meet the teacher." ”

Mi Huang also stood aside, looking at the teacher who had not seen him for more than three years and agreed to lead the student to worship and said, "On his day, my Zhuang'er was born, and I also ask the teacher to accept him as an apprentice and teach him to become a talent." ”

"Have you chosen your child's name?"

Ling Yin Ziyan asked.

"Well, father, Ziyan named the child Zhuang, a solemn and grand Zhuang. "The phoenix shook his head.

"Good name. Ling Yin Zi bowed his head, looked at her towering belly, and finally smiled.

Pan Chongye looked at the woman who was holding a woman's bun opposite, and smiled, "Okay, this child is also booked as a teacher." ”

How similar this scene is now, just like when the three of them were ambitious, curious, and hesitant, following their father with six salutations, kneeling under the eaves of the upper study, in front of him, apprenticeship.

"Student Ziyan, meet the teacher. ”

"Student Zikong, meet the teacher. ”

"Student Mi Huang, meet the teacher. ”

Pan Chong ordered people to take a cinnabar pen on the spot, and lit a red mole at the center of Cheng Fei's eyebrows, just like when he opened his mind for the three of them (point the mole, that is, open wisdom, mole Tongzhi), time turns, and the children and young girls of the year have become the pillars of today's country, the phoenix of Chu.

A new generation replaces the old.

Their era will eventually come to an end.

Their time is about to begin.

This is the unchanging cycle of reincarnation. [.]